Isolation and community on the bus

I'm a fairly shy person when it comes to strangers. Making eye contact is sometimes intimidating and I'm not yet sure where I fit into this community. The bus is a slightly different experience. Everyone getting on the bus share the ride; both the risks and rewards. We all get to where we need, and if anything bad happens, we're in it together. There is a connection for that five, ten, twenty minutes from point A to point B, and in my experience, the people on the bus are quite friendly. I moved once to allow an older gentlemen a seat, and he gave me a delicious piece of Big Ben candy.

Even though many people are isolated by their music and books, there still feels like a bond, a smile, a shared joke.

Baby steps.

Amy, student.

The Long Way

Subject: The Long Way

By now, I feel pretty confident in my ability to navigate the Tacoma and
Seattle bus system. Or at least I thought I was, a recent bus expedition
proved otherwise. I was trying to get to point A, in this little scenario.
Point A being a place that I have managed to get to via bus in the past, but
this time, I had printed out directions, because for some reason I thought I
needed them. My first mistake was standing on the wrong side of the road.
After the bus I should have gotten on, passed me going to opposite
direction, I took a deep breath, re-established my patience, and stepped
onto a bus that I knew very well was not the correct one. I ended up
basically being driven around to Tacoma, hitting up point E, point V, point
K, etc., before finally completing to circle, and landing at my
destination&lsqauo;in short, a trip that should have taken 10 minutes, took 40
minutes. But, I got to know Tacoma a little more intimately, realized I¹m
better off without directions, and had the fact that every bus trip presents
a new adventure, reaffirmed.

Tara, Student

Monks and Baseball

Subject: Monks and Baseball

One Saturday morning I set out on my way to Qwest Field to see the Dalai
Lama speak. By the time I made it down to the transfer station in down town
Tacoma however, I realized my plan of giving myself an hour extra to get up
there was a huge underestimate on my part. I boarded the good ol¹ 594 to
Seattle, to find an already packed bus. So me, along with the dozen or so
others at the bus stop, all loaded up together, and stood for what turned
out to be an extended trip, due to traffic being re-routed because of the
Daffodil Parade.

So, as I¹m standing my way up to Seattle, a conversation starts up between
the others standing, as a few people tried to sardine themselves in seats
that had been squished together to make room for a wheel chair. It quickly
became clear that the bus was filled with people who, like me, were going to
see the Dalai Lama, and those who were headed up for the Mariners game
scheduled for later that day. This proved to be an interesting mix of
people. One of the Mariners fans asked, ³What is the Dalai Lama?² To which
someone kindly replied, ³he¹s a religious leader.² The man said, ³oooh yeah,
he¹s Jewish isn¹t he?²

Then again, if someone had asked me to name the team the Mariners were
playing again, or who one of their starters was, I would have been at a
loss.

Tara, Student

this and that

This will be a follow-up on an earlier posting, as well as something new.

 

Jean, the subject of a previous blog, was just given a present from Pierce Transit of a fishing rod and reel, to mark her 30^th year of service.  At the party someone showed her my blog about her.  Her husband joked that he recognized the picture of his wife, but not my written description. At least he must have been joking, since no lawyer has yet shown up with a libel suit. She was going to try out here new fishing gear this past sunny weekend , but the motor of the boat she was going to use didn’t cooperate, so I haven’t heard any fish stories yet from her.

 

 

In addition to my favorite driver Jean, let me say thank-you, before this BlogSpot goes out of business, to the wonderful women who work in glassed-in environment of the Bus Shop by the waterfalls on Commerce.  St. It’s there you can go for the next month’s pass or tickets, as well as bus change, schedule information, lost-and-found, etc. They have been invariably helpful, cheerful and efficient, except when their computers are balky, for which they will keep apologizing. And when, as happened not long ago, someone ii a car came by and snatched my book bag on the bus stop bench while I was looking in the other direction., they have been very sympathetic and solicitous.  One of these women, and one who has been especially helpful, is Laurel, who lives across the street of Professor T.T and his wife, with whom we share a mutual acquaintance/   So we chat about our UPS connections whenever I’m in the Shop and no one else is in the waiting line.  In a way, a kind of impromptu town and gown get-together,

 

Wallace,

Staff

 

Everyday Discourse: From Trotsky to Keynes

On average a typical bus ride consists of reading or listening to my iPod with an occasional conversation with one of my fellow riders. Today, my normal, would be 30 minute ride transpired into a discourse of the last century and the western world. The gentlemen sitting to my left appeared engaged and eager for conversation. I learned pretty fast that he was a WWII Vet and served his country proud. Beyond that, I was intrigued by how he so eloquently explained the perils of the European-American struggle in the early-mid 20th century and the inner workings of western world. As the title suggests, there was plenty to be covered in this 30 minute ride; each minute was a decade covered and a decade lost. The content was great and the historical account was unparalleled in many respects. The most exciting part to me, however, was his passion. It has been a while since I have met someone with such radiating emotion and passion for a multitude of subjects. Over the span of the ride, he never wavered in his tone or feeling and by the end of the ride, I felt as though I was there with him the whole time. In the end, my would-be ordinary ride turned into so much more and I am glad that every once in a while we are challenged and engaged into a dialog of debate and good-hearted discussion.

Nathan, student

public figures

 

One thing about public transport here is that I haven’t seen public figures on it, unlike New York where Mayor Bloomberg rides the subway.  Years ago, I met Gary Locke canvassing for votes at the Federal Way bus transfer stop, but that has been the extent of my transport encounters with public figures.  Or rather “public figures” in the narrow sense.  In a broader sense, there are people who are not politicians or celebrities, but who have developed a public persona, a visibly noticeable image that sets themselves apart from the rest of us. Those are some of the sorts you will see on public transport.  Today’s blog will be about three of them, riders who enrich the texture of commuting.

 

To begin with, in order of proximity, there is “Three-fingered-Jack,” the grizzled-bearded street musician, often to be seen in Diversions with a newspaper and coffee. He invariably rides the afternoon bus to Seattle for Mariners and Seahawks games, carrying his fold-up chair and battered guitar case, and has dibs thanks to age and disability to the front bus seats.  If you don’t know, he’ll tell you.

 

Then there is another man of the hippy generation, but with more bizarre facial hair, who often rides the morning bus to Tacoma.  Details of his costume had indicated to me he was a clown (the hayseed denim overalls stopping above the ankles, with candy-colored striped socks and overlarge shoes below).  Yet his lumbering bulk seemed too intimidating and his features too hard-bitten for any parent to want to hire him to entertain a kiddy birthday party.  The sort of clown he was became clear in last November’s Seattle Weekly article on the “Pike Street All-stars.”  His public name is “Squeaky Tom,” who after a series of hard knocks is trying to make a living selling varied shaped balloons at the Market.

 

My last example is not a public entertainer in a professional sense, though he performs. He may not have a street name like Jack or Tom, but he has fashioned a public image with his fashionable dress of yesteryear. When he rides the buses in Seattle, he joshes with the drivers and fellow passengers, calling them “young whipper-snappers.” Old-fashioned expressions come naturally to describe him, since he is two years short of being a century old, as he proudly told us on the bus last week.  He’s a “nifty dresser,” something like George Raft, periodically seen on the Turner Classic Movie channel.  He wears his hats (including the kind of stiff straw boater hat that stopped being common street wear in the early 1930s) at a rakish angle, and sometimes has a “boutonnière” on his lapel.  He cuts a jaunty figure on the sidewalk, even or especially with his cane. He is in his public encounters, what in 19^th century France was called a “flâneur.”

 

If you’re into people watching, as a flâneur of today, public transport is a good way to go.

 

 

Wallace,

Staff

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mr. Boomerang

I decided to further expand the scope of my bus riding by taking the bus early on a Saturday morning to Vassault Playfield to meet a friend and run part of the Sound to Narrows course.

 

So, I catch the #28 to Tacoma Community College for the connection with the #10 heading north.  (To my great interest, the bus that ran the #28 route became the bus that then ran the #10 route.)  Rather than sit on a bus going nowhere I leave figuring that the driver left so I can get back on when she gets back on.  While she and I wait for the assigned departure time, we are entertained by a Pierce Transit employee who, apparently on a break from driving his Pierce Transit pick-up truck, takes time to practice his boomerang throwing and catching (or fetching if the boomerang returned to his vicinity).

 

This guy had some obvious confidence and skill because he was throwing in the parking areas for the buses with nothing and no one in danger.   When the driver and I got back on the bus, I should have asked her if she knew Mr. Boomerang, but it was too early for complete sentences.

 

Has anyone else seen the boomerang guy?

 

Brad, Staff

 

Jean

Hello, to whomever is out there.

Last week the call went out that we should post blogs with pictures of our favorite bus drivers. This blog will be about Jean, who may even appear in the digital camera image of her inserted into this message. Or perhaps not, because of technological hiccups. This is my second attempt this week. In any case, she has a very welcoming face. I’ve had many good bus drivers from and to Seattle-Tacoma, and once to Olympia, but clearly Jean excels. We meet most mornings at the no. 11 bus stop, either at the Dome Station, after I’ve ridden the Sounder (excellent connection), or at the 10^th and Commerce stop, after I’ve walked the length of Pacific and Commerce, as described in a previous blog posting.

Jean is an excellent driver, and in fact has been offered the job to train the newbie’s. She also willingly tells the less experienced drivers the tricks of the trade not covered in basic training.

But her bus skills aside, she excels with her people skills. She knows how to control the occasional unruly passenger, but always with velvet-gloved hands, thanks to the skills she honed as a mother, grandmother, and nurse. She knows her regular passengers, often on a first-name basis, and looks out for them, when they aren’t waiting at their usual stop, or when, as happened to me, they are too absorbed in reading, that they are about to miss getting off at their regular stop. She facilitates conversation on her bus (one rider even saying the bus ride made her arrive at work finally fully awake, like having had a cup of java. But if no one on the bus wants to speak, she is also happy with that. She is invariably open, alert and friendly, even when, as happened after a recent weekend of muscle-straining yard work and obligation to entertain a houseful of guests. Jean is already ready for the challenges of the new day, and never a curmudgeon in the process.

When I took a picture of her last Friday to include in this posting, she said that someone else had pointed a camera at her earlier. Another UPSer? So this encomium may not be the only one she’ll be receiving this week.

Wallace, Faculty